I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

When something this bad happens, something weird happens. You get a sense of entitlement. You think that if the world could do something so cruel by taking away someone you loved so much, surely everything else goes ok after that. I know you would say I’m being naive right now, but I think you would agree that it isn’t unreasonable to hope that.

I got a little bit of that reality this week. I didn’t get into a prestigious research program that would’ve secured two years in London. At Imperial hospitals! I quite naively thought I had a good shot. Frankly, salt was rubbed in the wound when I realised I knew people who had got it. You would have called me silly but I actually think you would have gotten it the most. We were so, so competitive and honestly deluded about how capable we were. Or at least, I am. I think you proved your capability.

And then I had my mock today. I actually thought I was vaguely prepared, and then proceeded to give some of the stupidest answers I have in my entire life. Seriously, it was to the point that my examiner gave me a face that basically spelt WTF. I don’t want to go on about it because it will alarm Ammamma, but it was one of those that made me question what I’ve learnt from the last 6 years.

But at the same time, it’s been more than 10 months since you passed. Have you just been cushioning life for me for all this time? I had a post where I said how hard it was when I did well and now I’m complaining about doing badly. I know you’d tell me to make my mind up.

Mum and I read this book about parents grieving children they had lost. I know you’re my little brother, but I find reading accounts of parents grieving very helpful. Because you grew up in a single parent household, I used to feel like there was a parental role I had to play so you didn’t miss out. Of course, our grandparents have always been instrumental but I did feel like my role could be a bit blurry. You did complain to Mum about this and I think we (/I) got better at it over the last few years. Since you passed, it’s gone murky again. Maybe because we’re all older than you. But basically, a mother in the book has a meltdown when a package is incorrectly delivered to her. Surely, after going through something this horrible, life owes us.

So I took a nap after the mock exam. Then I was on placement for cardiology where a bunch of consultants were being slightly nasty. They mocked me to the point that I cried, and I remember thinking should I let them know who I’ve lost this year? But I didn’t, because that’s not something to be thrown in people’s faces. You’re too important for that. But I was in a horrid mood all the way home, and it was one of those days I was just angry at life.

And then I woke up! I’m convinced you sent me that ‘nightmare’ to remind me to stop being dramatic. And that even if you’re not physically here with me, I have so much to be grateful for. It’s hard to remember it sometimes, but then I think of Mum or Shalini. They’re entitled to only good things. I will personally blame you otherwise. You’re fully responsible from up there Josh.

It’s Shalini’s birthday this week. You should be celebrating with her. The universe owes her a nice one. It won’t be, because you’re not here. But she is entitled to only good things. I don’t really know understand it hasn’t been so far. As your older sister, I insist. Although I know you’ll try regardless.

Love you Josh, miss you so much.

Acca